love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places
yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds
sábado, 19 de enero de 2008
miércoles, 21 de noviembre de 2007
"Funeral Blues" by W.H Auden
Funeral Blues
By
W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,Silence the pianos and with muffled drumBring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overheadScribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West.My working week and my Sunday rest,My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;For nothing now can ever come to any good.
By
W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,Silence the pianos and with muffled drumBring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overheadScribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West.My working week and my Sunday rest,My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;For nothing now can ever come to any good.
miércoles, 7 de noviembre de 2007
A welcome message
Welcome to my blog! You are invited to join and have fun learning English through literature. New texts and recommendations will be added soon.
Bye.
Bye.
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